A Man of His Word
by Justine Samulet Delarge
Summary: Dean's plans for Sammy keep getting derailed because Sam takes what he wants. So Dean decides he has no other choice but to tie him up. Contains Wincest.


The first time Dean tied Sam up, it was because he was tired of Sam being so handsy. He loved what Sam did to him with his hands, but that was precisely the problem. As soon as Sam started kneading his ass, pinching his nipples, grabbing his face and tugging him closer for a deep, soul-claiming kiss, Dean just melted. All his careful plans for the evening collapsed into dust. The huge black dildo he'd longed to work into Sam's ass while he sucked his cock, unused, languishing in its hiding spot under the bed. Teasing every inch of Sam's skin with his tongue, taking hours to do it, tasting the salt on his skin, feeling the silken texture, mapping every nerve and erogenous zone… all locked in his fantasies, as Sam reduced him to a shuddering, incoherent wreck.

And that's why Dean bought the set of leather cuffs and the under-the-mattress restraint kit. Not enough to really keep Sam tethered—if he wanted to get free bad enough, he'd do it—but enough to make him keep his hands to himself.

The first touch of leather against his wrist, as Dean pulled the left cuff out from under the pillow, made Sam's mouth fall open, tongue darting across his lower lip, something keen and sharp flickering in his expression. "Really."

Dean fastened it tight, but not tight enough to impede circulation. "Oh yeah. Had this coming for a long time, Sammy."

Sam paused, as though debating whether or not to go along with the game, but only in show. The second the leather cuff was secured, they both knew Sam was going to go along with anything Dean wanted.

Anything at all.

Sam stretched back on the bed and offered his unfettered wrist to Dean. Dean fastened the other cuff around it, mouth dry. "Try it."

Sam tugged against the restraints. He had some free play, but couldn't get away.

His breathing went raggedy and fast, already trembling. Dean took his time undressing at the foot of the bed, peeling off his t-shirt slowly, lingering to rub his hand across his chest and down his stomach, watching Sam squirm. He knew how much Sam loved to watch him. And now, he couldn't sit up and grab his belt buckle, snatch his cock out and draw the show to an early conclusion.

No, he had to lay back and watch.

And take it. Whatever it was Dean decided to give him.

He straddled Sam, hovering above him, denying him even a feel, and fisted his cock slowly. "Want this, baby boy?"

Sam pulled against the cuffs. "Yeah. God. Yes."

"Gotta earn it." Sam blew out his breath in a soft chuff. "I know. Hard, isn't it? You just want to grab me and take what you want. Don't you. That's what you do, Sam. That's why you're cuffed. Tonight, I'm taking what I want. Giving you what I want to give you. On my timetable." Dean fucked into his own fist, relishing the look of desire and frustration in Sam's eyes as much as the sensations themselves. "And you're gonna take it."

Sam arched his back as an involuntary shudder ran through him. "Fuck. Dean. Please."

"Begging so soon, Sammy? Got a long way to go before I let you come for me, little brother."

Should have done this so much sooner, Dean thought. Because torturing Sam with pleasure, as it turned out, was his new favorite thing.

Just like he'd fantasized about for weeks, he traced his tongue and mouth over every inch of Sam's body, nipping with his teeth, lapping at his skin, breathing warm air over his sensitive spots. A puff of breath against his nipple, and Sam gasped. A light swirl of his tongue on the side of Sam's stomach, and Sam pleaded with Dean to at least touch his cock. He promised so, so many naughty, uninhibited things if Dean would just do that.

But Dean waited.

A brush of Dean's lips against Sam's tight, pink hole, and Sam practically convulsed.

Dean settled in between Sam's strong thighs, making himself comfortable. "Hate to break it to you, Sam, but I'm gonna be here for a while." When his tongue swept across the tight little ring, the sound that came out of Sam's throat sounded suspiciously like a sob.

And oh yes, Dean was a man of his word. He took his sweet time, licking Sam's ass, hands holding his trembling thighs open. Sam pulled against the restraints, cursed, begged, cried out, circled his hips, fucked up into Dean's tongue, and begged and begged and begged for Dean to fuck him.

He begged so long, his voice grew hoarse. Dean slicked up his fingers and worked them into Sam so slow, drinking in the sight of him writhing and pleading for more, completely at Dean's mercy. He slid three fingers inside, not to prep him for his cock, but because Sam loved it. Loved Dean's strong fingers inside him. Loved it almost as much as his cock.

Slowly, so slowly, he moved his fingers in and out. Sam let his legs fall open as far as they would go. "Dean. Feels so fucking good."

"Yeah? Want it a little harder?"

"Please. Need it."

Dean wasn't cruel. And he always gave his Sammy what he needed.

"Think I can make you come on my fingers?" Dean picked up the pace, stabbing his fingers deeper, working Sam harder, angling upward to rub against the prostate. Sam pumped against Dean's fingers, making sounds. Just sounds. No words. Just rough, guttural consonants and drawn out vowel-moans.

"Yeah. I think I can, Sammy."

And Dean could. Oh yes, he could. Dean fucked Sam with his fingers, fucked him just like it was his cock, like his fingers needed that pace and sensation. In less than a minute, Sam started to spasm. Dean quickly wrapped his fist around Sam's cock to heighten the orgasm, and Sam cried out, coming so hard his stomach muscles fluttered with the effort. When Sam's cock had no more fluid to give up, Dean snaked his come-slick hand around his own fist and within three strokes, he was shuddering, open-mouthed, his own come arcing through the air and coming to rest all over Sam's face and throat.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful when you come for me," Dean murmured. Trailing his fingertips through the streaks of come—his mingled with his brothers—he brought them to his lips. Sam moaned as Dean sucked the taste of them off his fingers. "Taste so good." He slid his fingers through the mess they made once more, and pushed them gently into Sam's mouth. Sam sucked on them like it was the only path to salvation.

Dean pushed Sam back down, and licked a gleaming pearl of come out of Sam's navel. "Gonna lick you clean, Sammy." He moved to the side of the bed, leaned down, and brought something up. "Then I'm gonna see how deep you can take this for me." Sam's mouth fell open at the sight of the massive dildo in Dean's hand.

"Can you do that for me, Sammy?"

Sam stretched back, arms pinned above his head, and a subtle, wicked smile played across his lips. "You know I'd do anything for you, Dean. If you tell me to take it all… I'll take it all."

And just like his big brother, Sam Winchester was a man of his word.


End file.
